The Lonely Man
by ThePriestSpy
Summary: Mortals aren't the only ones with painful histories. This particular mortal is about to find out. /Oneshot.


I don't know what this is, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

* * *

"Mama, tell me a story!" Bright blue eyes looked up pleadingly at a woman standing before a grand wardrobe.  
The two of them occupied a spacious room, by no means as luxurious as one would expect of Demacian housing,  
yet furnished comfortably and homely. A sigh escaped the person at the wardrobe as she turned towards her daughter.

"Agnes, you know very well I have to prepare for the rehearsal." she replied, holding up one of the many costumes  
she had acquired over the years. The smaller of the two would not be deterred however.  
"If you won't show me your new costume, then at least tell me a story before you go!"  
The actress let out another sigh, and set the dress aside in order to lift her daughter onto her knee.

"Alright then, you little rascal" she told the child while she made herself comfortable.  
"If her majesty insists, we might get a short story done before I have to leave."  
As her daughter cheered and wiggled in her lap, Magga reflected on the situation.

It was true, she had a grand show this evening, a performance in the Golden Round for the King and all the nobles of Demacia, which she had to prepare for, and yet she wouldn't miss any chance to spend time with her precious daughter. Spending greater amounts of time with her wasn't easy for someone as (dare she think it) famous as her. After all, since that fateful night that saw the end of the Orphellum Mechanicals, she had quickly risen up to be one of the most famous and sought after actors across the country, with commoners and royalty alike praising her portrayal of Death personified – of the Lamb and the Wolf, and the King himself had told her how genuine and gripping her performances were. As Magga ran her hand over the gray streak forming in her hair, she scoffed in her mind.  
 _"If only they knew."_

At a tug on her sleeve, she snapped out of her remembrance and smiled down at her beloved Agnes.  
"What story would you like to hear today, my dear?" Her daughter beamed back at her.  
"Tell me the one about the lonely man, Mama!"

A look of exasperation settled on Magga's face. "But I've told that one so many times, do you not bore of it?"  
"It's my favorite, Mama. Pretty please?" Agnes was downright pouting at this point, and so Demacia's most  
distinguished performer put on her best serious expression as she began her tale.

"So you want to hear the story of the Kindred?" Magga intoned with an air of mystery and secrecy. She received a vigorous nod as a reply. "There was once a man as pale as snow, with hair as dark as the night. His name was Death, and as such, all things that had life in them had to meet him. But even as he met countless creatures every day,  
he was lonely, for no one wanted to be his friend. One day, he grew tired of being lonely all the time, so in despair,  
he took an axe, and cleaved himself in two, so that he would be alone no more."

As she finished her tale, her daughter piped up. "Isn't that where the Lamb and the Wolf came from?" Her mother nodded in reply, as she held the famous twin masks in her hands. "But why was the man so lonely? Why would nobody want to be his friend?" Her mother pondered for a second before replying,  
"He was Death after all. Many people fear their end, and so they fear him."

Agnes was decidedly unhappy with that explanation. "But why him, Mama? That hardly seems fair.  
Why was he forced to be Death?" Magga let out a chuckle as she stood up, setting the child back on her feet.  
"If anyone ever knew, it is now forgotten."

A quick glance at the clock made the actress pause. "But that's a different story, and I have to go rehearse the new play now. I'll come pick you up before the show begins. You know where to go if you're hungry or bored. Behave yourself!"

Magga ruffled her daughter's hair, and slid out the door with a pack of clothing and her masks in hand. A halfhearted  
'yes mama' was shouted after her, before the door closed. Instead of heading out into the city as usual however,  
Agnes began pacing the room, still brooding on the tale her mother had told her so many times.

She had never given it much thought before, but in her mind, it was all so unfair! Why was this poor man forced to be alone? Why would no one care for him or be his friend? Could people really be so indifferent? Surely he was scary, being Death and all, but maybe he had been a really nice person, and people just didn't care. While Agnes brooded on this dilemma, darkness began to blanket the room. It was slow at first, the lights dimming slightly, before they began to flicker wildly and die out into a weak glow. A presence descended upon the room, as if drawn to the turmoil inside the girl.

"I wonder if anyone truly remembers the poor lonely man" Agnes spoke out aloud, to no one in particular,  
before being violently startled out of her musings by an otherworldly chorus of voices.

" _We do. We remember him."_

* * *

"Who said that?" exclaimed Agnes, spinning in a circle, before her eyes came to rest on a figure standing in the open doorway. Agnes was confused, had mother not closed the door? When had this person opened it? She was more than a little spooked, considering how this strange person seemed to glow bright even in the darkness of the room. Yet as she looked upon the newcomer, she could make out more and more features. Long white hair, a wooly white dress, and a black wooden mask, hands clutching a bow. Confusion quickly turned to joy as she threw herself at what she thought to be her mother.

"Mama, you came back already! And you're wearing your new costume? Is that why you wouldn't show it to me,  
so you could surprise me? It's so pretty!"

The figure, visibly caught off guard, tentatively put a hand on the child's shoulder as it rambled on, while a shadow emerged from the darkness and floated towards them. Two bright blue eyes glowed with mirth as it spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. "The human thinks you are its mother. How funny!"

Confusion and fear crossed Agnes face once more as she looked up.  
"What was that, Mama?"

The white figure retracted its hand and placed it back on the bow.  
"I am not your mother." it said in a melodious, if somewhat monotone voice,  
"though I am curious, why would you think I was?"

"Because of your dress, and because of the mask! No one except for Mama has a mask… like…" she trailed off,  
and stood back to look at the figure in front of her more closely. With a start, she noticed more and more oddities.  
Mama did not have black hooves, nor long, floppy ears and glowing blue eyes. And most certainly,  
she did not have a giant disembodied wolf head floating behind her.

"Who… are you?" Agnes queried as she created a distance between herself and the otherworldly duo.

"I am the Lamb to his Wolf." replied the white figure.

"And I am the Wolf to her Lamb." added the shadowy head.

"Together, we are Kindred." they sounded in unison.

"Does that mean I'm dead?" Agnes asked in a small voice, rather unsure of herself.

The Wolf began to circle her, sniffing pointedly. "It smells of the Magga-thing."  
He said as he drifted lazily. "Then Magga is your mother, isn't she?" Lamb spoke to the frightened child.  
"Worry not, we have not come for your soul today."

The child couldn't help but be curious. "Then why are you here? What do you want from me?"

Wolf let out a laugh. "What do we want from you? It was you who summoned us!"

"I did?" Agnes said in disbelief.

"You asked whether anyone remembered the man who we once were. Your compassion moved us, which is why we are here." Lamb replied.

"Will you tell me his story then?" the young girl inquired, rather amazed at the entire situation.

"We will, if you wish. It is not a happy story to behold though, so we want to warn you."

Agnes looked up at the reapers, crossing her arms in an offended manner. "I'm already 5, soon 6 years old. I think I can handle your scary grown-up story!" Almost defiantly, she grabbed Lambs odd, wooly hand and tried to pull her along to the couch sitting opposite to her mother's wardrobe. Wolf let out another hearty laugh at his sister being handled this way by the small human.

As the rooms lights slowly came back to life, the girl plopped herself down on the cushions, Lamb sitting down next to her, Wolf curling around their feet. Before Lamb could begin her story, she was caught off guard for the second time that day as the human scooted up and cuddled into her side. Wolf gave a snort as the white spirit blinked a couple of times to process the situation.

"Why are you so inclined to touch me, young one?" Lamb asked her would-be assaulter. "Because you are so soft and fluffy!" Caught off guard for the third time, Lamb threw a look at Wolf, who only grinned back in amusement. The white spirit pointedly cleared its throat, more so to distract from her embarrassment, before she began.

"Very well then, hear the tale of the Kindred, which few know and even fewer have told. First you must know that all living things hold a divine spark within them, the thing that you mortals refer to as souls. When life first began on Runeterra, the souls of those creatures were simple, and they passed into this world and out of it with ease. Yet as life grew more complex, so did their souls, and when the first sapient creatures emerged, their souls remained trapped in the mortal plane after death."

"That sounds unpleasant." Agnes chimed in, petting Wolfs head. His eyes were closed, and his tongue was lolling out of his mouth. Lamb raised an eyebrow behind her mask, unaccustomed to her brother letting a human touch him, before continuing her tale.

"Indeed it is. Soon these souls would become tortured, stuck forever in limbo. This was where we, or rather our previous self, came in. Even I cannot remember whether we came to be as an accident, or whether the gods sent us, but either way, we were a formless shade, barely aware of itself. All we knew was hunger, and these souls shone like a beacon in the dark. We severed their ties to this world, and devoured what they left behind. Their remnants served as our nourishment, and so we began hunting the souls of the deceased. We continued like this for ages, and due to our formless state, our appearance changed to whatever the dead imposed upon us. The soul remnants however also contained parts of their memories, their emotions and experiences, and as we absorbed them, we gained glimpses into lives of the mortals. As our prey consisted of highly evolved beings, like humans, vastaya or yordles, we grew stronger, smarter, better at the hunt, and yet we began to feel empty. From devouring their souls one day came a wish of our own, to be like them, to see and feel the world like them, to have a soul of our own."

"Did you not have a soul before then?" Agnes interrupted again, slightly confused at this story that was indeed far more complex than she had imagined.

"We did not. We were a rather mindless creature." Wolf chimed in, awakening from his pet-induced stupor.  
"But then how could you become interested in our world if you could not think or feel?" "We were not simply mindless, we just lacked the ability to feel and understand, beyond a very animal like manner. It wasn't a conscious wish,  
but more of a hunger for understanding these fragments of emotion we experienced." Lamb explained.

That answer left the child sufficiently baffled, but she nodded and gestured for Lamb to continue.

"From that first wish, with every soul we consumed, we grew closer and closer to our goal, to a human soul of our own. You might consider our first rebirth to awakening from a long, dreamless slumber, as one day, we were simply there. Suddenly we could think, feel, and we felt a pulse of life within us like those we harvested, though it felt artificial, just a collection of scraps from those we hunted.

"I remember that day well." Wolf exclaimed suddenly, drawing the attention of his sister and their audience. "We looked upon ourselves and saw only shadows. We wished to have a form, an identity like yours, and so we asked the first soul we hunted that day what we looked like to it."

"You should know what its answer was, young one. It is part of the myth that surrounds us." Lamb explained,  
casting a glance at her brother for his sudden sociability. "The pale man with dark hair."

"We were overjoyed at our newfound soul, at finally being human. I still remember the joy until this very day. All the memories and emotions we had gathered finally made sense, felt real, and we relished each and every one. Hunger and fatigue, pain and grief, but also companionship, excitement and, most importantly, happiness. Yet our happiness faded soon. Time passes differently for us, you must know, and a mortal second can be anything between a second, an hour or a day for us. This way, we can reap all the souls without any of them having to wait and suffer in limbo. Before, this had not been a problem, as we had no sense of time, going only from harvest to harvest. Now, with a human mind, the hunt was far more exciting at first, before we eventually grew bored of what we had been doing for ages."

Agnes could understand that well, she grew bored waiting only a few minutes for Mama, and that already felt like an eternity. What must their life have been like?

"When we realized our predicament, we ventured into the mortal world. We had hoped that mingling with the mortals would bring us the joy and companionship, to distract us from our task. Yet we were disappointed once more. Most of the living shunned us, for they knew that we would, one day, put an end to them all. There were some who worshipped us, but they distorted our image, and they did not truly care for us as a person. Even those few dead souls that saw our anguish and cared could not help, for they had to pass on into the next world. Eventually we fell into deep despair. We were human, we felt and thought like any other, and yet we were only a pale imitation of life, stuck in a place of shadows with only glimpses into a world we could never truly be a part of. We were already terrified at being trapped in our endless task as Death, but what horrified us the most was that we would always be alone. Forever."

A certain darkness fell over both Lamb and Wolf. Agnes was by no means an expert on emotions, but even she could tell that behind their masks, the spirits were suffering from recalling that part of their existence. She heard a hint of sadness and pain enter Lamb's voice as the spirit continued.

"Eventually, we grew tired of thinking, tired of feeling, tired of being. We cursed our wish to be human, cursed our existence, and cursed whoever created us. It was at that point that our old self decided to end his misery. He entered the mortal world once more, picked up an axe, and then painfully split his entire being, his soul, his existence in two. He decided, in his last moments, that perhaps his fragments could split his burden, and overcome it together. At that moment, we were born."

Lamb finished her tale on that somber note, and Agnes was left in awe. This was far beyond what she had imagined, far beyond what she had wished for. In a small, fearful voice, so as to not rile up the grieving spirits, she asked them.  
"Did he die that day, the pale man? Is he gone forever?"

Lamb turned towards her. "No. He is still alive, in both my brother and myself. We are his parts, his remains evenly split amongst two, each of us shouldering a part of his burden. I think, Wolf feels. I grant peace, Wolf leads the hunt. But most importantly, we are never alone." Then, almost inaudibly, she added, "And we have finally found happiness."

The three of them were left in silence. Agnes had never felt such sadness in her entire life, and without giving it a second thought, she wrapped her arms around Lamb. "I didn't think that anyone could suffer so much", the child began, "But I am thankful that you came to tell me your story, and I am happy to know that the lonely man had a happy end."

Both of the spirits looked at her with their burning blue eyes, and Agnes was worried she might have said something wrong, before she felt the white spirit return her embrace. Wolf floated up to her, and gave her an affectionate lick on the cheek, before he went over to the door. Lamb untangled herself from the mortal child's embrace, and retrieved her bow, coming to stand beside the couch.

"I'm… happy that you are so sympathetic to our story, but let it weigh on your heart no longer. It is a thing of the past, and it should not trouble someone as kind as you. Sleep now, for your mother will soon return, and then you can enjoy your mortal life to its fullest."  
With these words, Lamb placed a hand on the child's forehead, and as Agnes fell asleep, she saw the two spirits disappear in the wave of darkness they had appeared in.

* * *

"Wake up, my child." A soft voice called out to her. Agnes felt herself being carried by two arms, and let out a soft sigh. Her mind was still hazy, she hadn't slept that deeply in a long time. What had she done before she fell asleep? Slowly everything returned to her. Her mother telling her favorite story, being upset at that story, being visited by Death, comforting Death… those last parts made her pause, and dig her fingers into the arms that carried her. She met soft, fluffy fleece. Had Lamb returned for some reason?

"Lamb?" she asked groggily, before opening her eyes. Her mother's face looked down at her. "Is my costume that convincing?" Magga asked with a smile on her face, before setting her daughter on her own feet. She was wearing a beautiful dress, made of both white fleece and black fur, with bright blue markings. "I wanted to surprise you, so I apologize for keeping you waiting." Then, in jest, the actress added, "Did you figure out what happened to the poor lonely man?"

Agnes head was instantly swimming with questions. Should she tell her mother about what happened? Would she even believe her story? Finally she settled for the best answer she could think of.

 _"I did, Mama. He may have been sad all his life, but I think he found his happy end."_


End file.
